


So, So Much

by noobieninja



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Instability, Incest, M/M, Mental Instability, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noobieninja/pseuds/noobieninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro has always had problems with emotions and feelings, he's the basketcase of the family. Dave is the normal one, the whole one, Bro's healer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, So Much

**Author's Note:**

> For my dear friend Sharki! <3 I wrote this in like 45 minutes, sorry it's so short and scattered and shitty ;A;

When you were younger, your anxiety was a cage you kept yourself in. Like there were two sides of you, your mind and your anxiety, and your anxiety was this monstrous sadist that kept your mind, your feelings, every mildly intelligent thought cooped up in a steel box and no matter how hard you pounded on the walls, it wouldn’t let you out. You were stuck forever. You could have had a chance of survival in the real world, but no, the anxiety pushed it down, far down, away, and you became a shell of a person, with shaky hands and pale skin and dirty hair and you were _that kid in foster care, don’t know why he even goes here anymore, it’s not like he’s going to do anything with his life, anyway._  
  
The drugs didn’t help. As if filling your body with antidepressants for the cripplingly low self esteem, anti-anxiety pills so you could even go to school, sleeping pills for the insomnia caused by the anxiety and depression, caffeine pills so you could stay awake long enough in class, and something else for the shaking in your hands to go away, as if dipping your brain in chemicals and artificial feelings was going to be the solution. As if you could ever be fixed, as if you weren’t going to be a broken, dysfunctional hermit for the rest of your life.  
  
You’re not sure how you graduated. But it happened, and thanks to your puppet porn site – which grew remarkably popular – you were able to buy an apartment a few months after. No more foster home bullshit for you.  
  
And then Dave entered your life. Dave, who was a precious, beautiful little boy who had his entire normal, precious, beautiful life ahead of him. Dave, who was going to be everything you couldn’t be, because he wasn’t going to have to take the meds or have the anxiety. He’d have friends, and good ones too.  
You’d make sure it would happen. But you didn’t know how to raise a kid, and instead of cuddles and healthy meals, you gave him strifes and Doritos. You were an awful guardian, but still, he turned out a great kid.  
  
He turned out to be the most perfect human being you’d ever seen. He was beautiful, handsome, with fiery red eyes and white-blonde hair that sparkled in the sunlight. He had friends, even if they were across the country, they were still friends and they still liked him for him. He was smart, too. Knew his stuff. Didn’t always get the best grades, but he didn’t have to. You loved him all the same. And he was funny, so funny. Everything he said made you smile, even if he didn’t want you to or if he wasn’t talking to you. You loved to listen to him talk, ramble about whatever was his fascination that week. He was so interested in certain things, things you’d never even thought about, like time travel, and the way he theorized it and rationalized it – god, you never thought someone could be as proud of someone else as you were of him.  
  
You loved him so much, and that was why it hurt. It hurt so much, because you knew you could never be the guardian, the brother, the person he’d need. He’d need someone so much stronger than you could ever be, someone who could protect and comfort him like he protected and comforted you.  
  
You stopped taking the medication as soon as you were out of high school, and with Dave there, you were fine. Like he was your medication, like he was everything you’d ever need and more, because with the medications you couldn’t think for yourself and you were stuck in a haze all day, but with Dave you were just… The happiest you could ever be. But he was eighteen, rapidly approaching his graduation, and then he’d be leaving you forever and your depression and anxiety would relapse, and once again all you’d be is a broken, hollow shell of the person you could have been.  
  
You never wanted Dave to leave. All for selfish reasons, of course. Like how he kept you together as a person and how he made you feel like you could breathe for once, how he opened the steel box and let you walk around and breathe the fresh air, how he could always calm you down from whatever panic you had. You knew college would be the best decision for him, but you hoped he didn’t move too far away, didn’t leave you too far behind. That was the best you could hope for.  
  
The day of his graduation, you gave him his first beer at home. You watched old, poorly done horror movies together, and when you got surprised at all the jump scares, he always kept an arm around you, made you feel better. Comforted you, exactly the way he couldn’t do while he would be away at school.  
  
And then he told you that he got accepted to University of Houston – and that he would feel more comfortable living at home, in the apartment. You accepted, of course, clutching him closer and nearly breaking down in tears because _he’s not leaving_.  
  
That summer, he kissed you. You’d been cleaning around the kitchen, and he had come in to make lunch. He tapped you on the shoulder, and when you looked over, he pressed his lips to yours, his arm slipping down around your waist. You froze up, dropped the plate in your hands, and it made a loud crashing sound against the metal of the sink, but it didn’t break, and neither did the kiss.  
  
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wanted this for a long time. Too long. You knew all along it was wrong, but you’d told yourself you wouldn’t force yourself on him, you’d let him grow up normal and be his own person and fall in love with whoever he wanted to.  
  
But you couldn’t stop kissing him, didn’t want to, needed it so badly.  
  
When he broke away after a minute, he was smiling at you. He told you he loved you, always would, and that the both of you were going to be fine. You just dumbly nodded, believing every word that came out of his mouth because you loved him too much to think he could ever lie.  
  
You knew right then that you were fucked, you were screwed, but you couldn’t help but not care.  
  
You spent the rest of the afternoon, all evening kissing him, and for once, it didn’t take hours or pills to fall asleep. You curled yourself around him, his own limbs tangled with yours, and you felt yourself drift off within minutes.  
  
He was everything you needed and more. Couldn’t fix you, nothing could erase the scars those years and years had done to you, but he could help. Could soothe the pain, could kiss the tears away, could love the sadness away.  
  
You loved him so much. So, so much.


End file.
